


Peppermint Oil

by Sweetestlittledarling



Series: Markiplier/Jackseptic Eye Ego Christmas Series [13]
Category: Markiplier Egos, WKM - Fandom, Who Killed Markiplier, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Before WKM, Christmas, Ego Christmas, Markiplier egos - Freeform, Other, Peppermint, Peppermint oil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 19:45:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetestlittledarling/pseuds/Sweetestlittledarling
Summary: Damien was always good at hiding weakness, you wish he didn't have to...Part of the Ego Christmas challenge thingie on Tumblr. Prompt #13: Peppermint





	Peppermint Oil

**Author's Note:**

> So this story was inspired by punknerdmusings on Tumblr, who had this list of Damien headcanons on which there was one that suggested that Damien had his cane because he had an old injury. In my usual universe, I had it as something for his mayordom but the idea wouldn't leave me alone and worked well for this prompt. 
> 
> This story is also inspired by damiendeservesbetter on Tumblr, who lovely work makes me love Damien even more. I love diving into these characters and her work makes me want to do it more. 
> 
> Thank you, both.

****

You watch Damien up on the podium. He seems confident, his body straight and his voice strong. If someone didn’t know what they were looking for they probably wouldn’t know anything was wrong with the mayor. But you can see it, because you have come to know the signs. The way he grips the podium, the way he is keeping favoring one leg over the other, it’s all telltale signs that he’s fading fast. But you know that he would want you to wait until he is done with his address, it’s important that no one sees that he is in pain. You wish he didn’t have to pretend, especially about this. Still, you wait, ready to move at a moments notice. And the moment he finishes his speech you do so, moving quickly from the wings over to Damien’s side. “Ready to go?” you ask, not wanting to give anyone any reason to doubt.

             Damien nods, his smile forced. “Yes, thank you,” he says as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He has his cane gripped in one hand, but you figure that it looks a little less obvious if he leans on you for support. To anyone else, it looks like the mayor is simply being friendly, but you are supporting more than just yourself at that moment. You move as quickly as you can give the fact that you don’t want to cause him any more pain. You can feel Damien’s grip tighten as you make your way to his office. You can’t imagine the immense pain with each step he takes. Finally, you are at the door marked ‘mayor’ and you help Damien hobble inside. Finally, out of sight of anyone who would judge, Damien lets out what sounds like a near scream through his gritted teeth.

             “I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself like that!” you say, giving him a side look of concern.

             “I’m fine,” Damien grunts.

             “No, you are not,” you say as you help him over to his desk.

             He lets out a sound of relief as he is finally able to sit down in his chair, his entire body trembling as you go looking through his desk drawer. You know where he keeps his painkillers and quickly pull out the bottle. You give him two and he takes them, quickly swallowing them down without water. After that, he sighs leaning his head back as he spends a moment taking in deep breaths. You hate seeing him like this. You place a hand on his shoulder.

             “Again, I really wish that you wouldn’t push yourself like this.”

             Damien places his hand on yours, giving a gentle squeeze. “I know old friend, and I’m sorry.”

             “No one would think less of you if you admitted a little weakness Damien, and even if they did I would punch them in the face! You are human, and they should understand that.”

             Damien chuckles. “That being so my dear, I do believe that as the mayor many people see me as more than human. They need me to be strong and any sign of weakness would invite others to destroy the good we have done for this city.”

             “I understand that,” you say, lying just a little. You can see the faint sheen of sweat on his brow and the paleness of his face and it makes your stomach turn. You give his shoulder a squeeze. “I still don’t like the idea of you killing yourself simply, so others can think your strong. You are plenty strong without having to hurt yourself like this.”

             Damien smiles as he looks up at you. “If only others were as good as you old friend.” He winces as he shifts a bit trying to sit up more in his chair. “Will you go back into my drawer and find my peppermint oil?”

             You nod, opening the drawer again and pulling out the nice smelling vial. You hand it to him and look away as he undoes his pants. A moment later he lets out another sigh of relief as he rubs the oil onto the aching muscle. “Thank you,” he says placing the vial on the desk and rebuttoning his pants. There is a lovely smell of peppermint in the air and it makes you smile.

             “Well, at least we can say you smell Christmassy now,” you say giving your friend a wink.

             Damien laughs as he squeezes your hand again.

…

Years Later…

             “What is that smell?”

             Warfstache nearly dropped the bottle he was holding as Dark spoke. He had been sitting in his vanity in his very pink room, and hadn’t heard Dark slink in. “It’s peppermint,” he said proudly, showing Dark the bottle. “Our dear friend the former district attorney gave it to me.”

             Dark’s face remained unemotional although his eyes focused on the bottle in Warf’s hand. “First of all, they are not our ‘friend’,” Dark said sneering at the word, “and two, why would they give such a thing to you?”

             “I told them I liked it and they said I could have it. They said they too liked the smell, and that it reminded them of an old friend…” Suddenly Warfstache eyes seemed rather distant, as if he was traveling somewhere in his own mind. He also looked somewhat sad. “Actually…this scent does remind me of Damien, he used to use peppermint oil for injury…we used to joke that around this time of year he was rather seasonal…”

             Dark’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed the bottle from Warf’s hand. “You are not to go anywhere near the district attorney again, do you understand me?”

             Warf’s bottom lip jutted out as he pouted. “Why? They are nice to me and they like to share their ice cream!”

             “Because they are a bad influence!” Dark snapped, gripping the bottle so tightly in his hand it looked as if it might crack. “You are not to go see them again and that is final!” And before Warfstache could say another word, Dark walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Out in the hallway beyond Dark looked at the bottle in his hand. For a moment he thought about smashing it. He lifted it high above his head, gripping it so tightly his hand trembled. But he couldn’t do it. Instead, he lowered his arm. He popped the top open and took a sniff. The sweet minty smell…somewhere deep inside himself, he felt a strange sensation. He was still angry, forever a raging storm, but under that was a strange sensation…is this what someone else might know as calm?

             Dark closed the bottle and put it into his pocket. One day he was going to have to do something about that district attorney, they were getting to be dangerous for business.


End file.
